


Never Know How Much I Care

by Byrcca



Series: I Get A Fever That’s So Hard To Bear [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s03e16 Blood Fever, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 13:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byrcca/pseuds/Byrcca
Summary: His hands on her shoulders, the warm pressure forcing her backwards against the cave wall. His lips so soft and warm when he kissed her, the taste of him, his scent washing over her. It was dizzying. A what if they really did it? fic from B’Elanna’s POV.





	Never Know How Much I Care

**Author's Note:**

> B’Elanna’s point of view.

*** 

She could remember the meeting with the captain about the gallicite deposits, and reviewing the scans of the planet with Vorik on the upper engineering deck. She could remember his preposterous proposal, and her surprise, and the creeping feeling that it was all an elaborate joke, that someone had talked him into it, and the fleeting suspicion that Tom Paris was in on it. She could remember her embarrassment, and her rising irritation. 

She could remember his hands on her face, her shock that quickly turned to anger. And then, her fear. She wasn’t used to feeling fear. Anger, frustration, impatience, they were old friends, but her Klingon half usually prevented her from being afraid. But when he put his hands on her face, and she could feel him in her mind, in her very being, demanding to be let in, she knew true terror for the first time. 

And she knew that it was very, very important to make him let go. 

So she did. The only way she knew how, the way she instinctively reacted to perceived threat. She hit him, hard. Hard enough to drop him to the deck. Hard enough to break his jaw.

She remembered storming into sickbay, demanding to know what was wrong with him, and the Doctor forcing her to leave. And she remembered stewing about it, being pissed off by the inconvenience because that meant that the away team would be short a person. And she’d mentally run through her staff, trying to decide who should take Vorik’s place because even if the Doctor cleared him for duty, there was no way she was bringing him. And she remembered contemplating creating a swing shift from twenty hundred to oh four hundred so she would, hopefully, not have to see him or work with him for the next sixty-five years. 

She remembered writing a report for Tuvok since he demanded it, then filing an update with Chakotay telling him that the personnel for the away team had changed, but not telling him why. She remembered getting ready for bed, thinking about comming Tom. Thinking about Tom. He’d been so attentive lately, flirting with her, joining her for meals in the mess. Inviting her to join him in the holodeck whenever she had some spare time. And she’d liked his attentions. A little too much. 

She’d been looking forward to spending the day with him: to the mission, to the physicality of the climb, to watching him show off his climbing expertise. He liked being physical, she knew that, the sports holoprograms he ran with Harry proved that. And she wanted to see him in the tight, ‘fleet issued climbing suit. 

She remembered wondering what he would have thought about Vorik’s behaviour. Would he have been angry? Would he have defended her? Would he have hauled Vorik off of her and beaten him? But Tom wasn’t violent; she’d never seen him violent. She liked to think he would be violent if it meant defending her. 

Somehow she’d slept and in her dreams they were in the tunnels searching for the gallicite and Vorik was with them, which pissed her off. They hadn’t found it, and the tricorders were useless. They were lost and wandering when the Viidians showed up. Pete was there, but they took him and Vorik away, and Tom was consoling her because she was suddenly terrified and sobbing. She was herself, but she might as well have been her human self. Then that Vidiian scientist appeared wearing Vorik’s face and asked her to marry him, and she laughed. She told him that he should have used Tom’s if he wanted to attract her. So he did. He slipped Tom’s face off of his skull and wore it as his own and, as an afterthought, plucked out his eyes because he knew that B’Elanna thought Tom had pretty eyes. 

And Tom just stood there, with that smirk of his, and did nothing. And when she’d asked him why, when she’d screamed it, he’d simply said, in that damned, soft, cajoling voice of his, “B’Elanna, you know I’m not violent.”

She’d awoken drenched in sweat and gasping. Somehow she resisted the urge to comm Tom and ask him if he was alright. If he still had his pretty blue eyes. It was almost oh five hundred so she got up and got ready. She’d showered, and instead of calming her, the sonic waves invigorated her. She’d replicated breakfast because she’d been too hungry to go all the way to the mess. She was starving! She’d loaded her pack, then emptied it and packed it again, just to be sure she didn’t forget anything. 

She’d decided to go to the mess hall after all because she was still hungry and maybe Tom was there. He wasn’t. Neelix was already in his climbing suit, and he assured her that his bag was packed and ready as he dished up her serving of Tarkarian eggs and raska fruit fritters. He told her how excited he was to be going on the mission, and he thanked her for making him part of the away team. And her gaze kept straying to the doors, looking for Tom, hoping he would walk in. 

She’d left the mess hall and headed to engineering promising herself that if Vorik was there she wasn’t going to look at him. She found Nicoletti and together they ran through the lists of diagnostics and upgrades that were planned for the day, and she reminded her to turn her eye to the driver coil assembly because Tom had complained that the impulse engines were sluggish. Sue had responded with her usual “Sure, boss.” which always delighted B’Elanna. She liked it when they called her boss.

When she’d arrived at the transporter room, Tom and Neelix were already there, and she’d felt a little bubble of happiness and excitement when Tom smiled a good morning at her. He really was too good looking. And his eyes were gorgeous. She’d always loved his eyes. She fought the urge to touch him and smiled at him instead. 

** _You two are awfully prompt!_ **

She’d teased him, engaged him, and he’d responded in kind as she’d hoped he would. 

** _Impressed?_ **

And that little bubble floated up from her tummy to her chest and grew larger, demanding to be released from her lungs in laughter. And she couldn’t look at him because if she had, she would have touched him, so she’d busied her hands with her gear.

_**Oh, it'll take a little more work than that to impress me, Lieutenant.**_

And he’d looked startled, then delighted, then he’d answered her with that low, sexy tone of voice that always made her breath catch, that always made her reconsider keeping him at arm’s length. 

_**Yes, ma’am.**_

When he and Neelix stood behind her, reviewing the map of the tunnels she’d made yesterday (with Vorik, who could rot), she’d shifted so she stood closer to him, so she could feel his body heat. She’d smelled the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne, the richer, warmer scent that was him, and her heart sped up, and she felt like she might burst. She’d told them their route through the tunnels, speaking quickly, her words clipped, anxious to get going. 

_**Do you see any problem with that, Tom?**_

His reply, that they go _slow_ and _easy_ , made her stomachs flutter, made her _warm_ , and she’d pushed it aside, irritated with her body’s betrayal. _Let’s go!_

She remembered the ruins. Neelix had wanted to play amateur archaeologist, and Tom had followed him, which irritated her even more because he was supposed to be focused on her and the mission. 

_**Unless, of course, you want to stall to put off demonstrating your climbing expertise.**_

She’d gone down the shaft first so she could watch him, appreciate him: his long legs, and firm muscles, and his very fine ass. And when he’d landed close to her, she’d helped him gain his balance and ran her hands over his back and arm. And when they’d come to _the drop_ her excitement had amplified. This was a challenge! This was why she’d wanted to go on the mission! 

Tom had gone first this time and she and Neelix had followed. Then Neelix’ piton had malfunctioned and he’d fallen, clipping her on the way down. She’d scraped her shoulder against the cliff face, and landed hard, and she remembered the surge of anger fueled by adrenaline and disappointment. _Stupid!_ They’d have to stop now, when they’d barely begun. That stupid, bumbling, useless man had ruined it all! And that made her furious! 

Then Tom was there, trying to calm her, trying to hold her back, and she caught his scent: the sharp scent of fear and adrenaline, the warm earthiness that was _him_ , in her mind. And he was holding her, fighting her, challenging her, the heat off his body enveloping her, and she did what was natural, instinctual: she grabbed his chin and turned his face and bit him. Even as she sank her teeth into his jaw, she recognized how inappropriate it was, how _wrong_ , but then his chest brushed hers, and his blood hit her tongue and she wanted to press her body against his; wanted to throw him to the ground; wanted to claim him fully. Properly.

He’d yelped in pain and jumped back.

_**B’Elanna! What is wrong with you?!**_

She threw back the covers and leapt out of bed, jumpy, anxious, needing to move. She didn’t want to remember any more, not the mission, not Tom, not waking in sickbay. She wanted to forget it all. Just pretend that it hadn’t happened. 

She pulled a brush through her hair and cleaned her teeth, then splashed water on her face. She looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes. She looked uncertain. She looked like hell.

Fuck the Doctor’s sick leave; she didn’t need time. She had slept in sickbay. She had slept in her quarters. It had been a full day, almost a full day, _eighteen hours_ , she chided herself. She was fine. She would get over it. She would get over it faster if she could work. 

She pulled on her uniform, shoved her feet into her boots, and stormed out the door.

~~ 

Someone was moving her body, fumbling with her clothing, shoving her legs, pulling her upright. She tried to push them away. She was resting against something warm and solid, and it wouldn’t stay still: it was moving rhythmically up and down. She heard a rapid pounding sound under her ear: a heartbeat, and harsh breath. A hand gripped her. An arm held her upright. She was falling…

The lights were too bright, and there were hands on her again, brushing her face, moving her hair. Something cold was against her neck and she heard a hiss. A hypo. Sickbay! She was in sickbay. She felt the padding of the biobed under her, sensed the arch, felt the familiar feeling of confinement. “What happened?” she said. Tried to say; her mouth wouldn’t work properly. _I wonder who got hurt?_ she thought.

Later. It must be later because she sensed that time had passed. She must have made a noise because Kes was there, smiling at her, asking her how she felt. 

“Ohh…” she brought a hand to her forehead, pushed back her hair. “I don’t know.”

“Just rest,” Kes replied. “Doctor, she’s awake.”

“Ah, B’Elanna. How are you feeling?” The Doctor was at her elbow, his voice, for once, solicitous, his expression kind, hesitant. 

“I...I’m okay.” She glanced around the room. They were alone.

“What do remember about the away mission?” His eyes held hers. His concern was starting to unsettle her.

“I…” She paused. “Did we find the gallicite?”

He glanced at Kes, focused back on her. “That’s not important right now. What do you remember about being in the tunnels. On the surface?”

“Neelix fell. He broke his leg.”

“Yes! Good.” The Doctor was pleased. “What else?”

“I…” she gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. “I bit…”

“Yes. Do you remember what you were feeling at the time? Your state of mind?”

_**B’Elanna! What is wrong with you?!**_

She shook her head. “No.” It was mortifying. Tom. What must he think of her? 

“You were separated from the rest of the away team for a while. Do you remember that?”

She nodded. “I was looking for the gallicite. I was following the readings on my tricorder.” She glanced at Kes, who nodded encouragingly. 

“Tom and Chakotay found you.”

_**Tom! I found it!**_

“They did?”

_**We’ve got to get you back to the ship.**_

“Chakotay.” She remembered him now. And Tom touching her, holding her arm, concern in his eyes. His jaw red and inflamed from her bite. 

_**Why does everyone keep saying there’s something wrong with me?**_

“Tuvok was there, too.” The Doctor nodded. She gasped, “There were aliens!”

“The Sakari. They’re native to the planet. They live underground.”

“Oh. I thought it was…” Her dream came back to her and she shuddered. The Vidiians. But they were long behind them now. 

“Can you remember anything else? Try to relax. Let the memories come.” He had his hand on her shoulder, and B’Elanna thought it was funny that she could see it there, feel the pressure of his fingers, but he wasn’t warm. 

_**B’Elanna, stop it! This is about sex. But that’s not gonna happen right now!**_

“We were trapped in a cave. And I… Tom…” His hands on her shoulders, the warm pressure forcing her backwards against the cave wall. The light from his wrist torch highlighting his hair, making it glow white in the darkness, his eyes shining, his eyelids closing, eyelashes dark spikes on his pale cheeks. His lips so soft and warm when he kissed her, the taste of him, his scent washing over her. It was dizzying. 

_**I hope someday you’ll say that to me and mean it.**_

“He kissed me,” she whispered. 

“Where was this? On the surface of the planet? Do you remember being on the surface?”

She nodded. She remembered the dappled light through the branches of the trees. Taking his hand, leading him to a quiet place. A place where they could be alone. Pulling at his clothing, inhaling his scent, grazing his wrist with her teeth. And the feeling of rightness in being with him. Impatience. More than lust: lust was too simple a word. Joining. They were one; they had to become one. 

Rolling on the ground, pinning him, then him flipping them over and pinning her. Joy rushing through her! His mouth on her breasts, his hands on her. Her fingers in his hair, pulling, the taste of his blood on her tongue. And, finally, him inside her. Truly inside her. She could feel him in her mind, in her being, joined with her, one with her. Her mate. 

B’Elanna gasped and shook her head, and Kes took her hand. “It’s alright,” she said soothingly. “You’re home. You’re safe now.”

But B’Elanna didn’t feel safe. She whipped her head around, making sure they were alone, that there was no one to overhear. “That didn’t happen,” she said, shaking her head. Then more firmly, willing Kes to believe her. “That didn’t happen.” 

She felt the cold hardness of a hypo against her neck, heard the hiss. “I’ve given you something to relax you. And this,” he loaded the hypo with a new vial and pressed the contents into her neck, “will prevent a zygote from attaching to the uterine wall, just in case.” 

Uterus. Zygote. B’Elanna’s stomachs rolled and she thought she might vomit.

~~ 

There was nothing, no clue left on her body to help her figure out what it had been through. No bruises, no scrapes. She remembered hurting her shoulder when Neelix fell but even that had been healed by their overzealous doctor. She’d slept again, and when she woke she’d demanded to be released and, for the first time, he didn’t fight her on it. She’d wanted to be in her quarters, she’d needed to be alone. 

She stripped out of the sickbay blues as soon as she came in the door, and headed for the bathroom. She examined herself, reviewing her arms and legs, belly and breasts. She could remember his hands on her breasts, on her hips. She drew in a shaky breath. She slammed on the controls for the sonic shower and stayed in until she started to shake, from emotion or fatigue, then dressed in her favourite lounging outfit, wrapped herself in her bathrobe, and slumped onto her couch. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her shins, then rested her forehead on her knees. 

She remembered Vorik interrupting them. She remembered her fury, and Tom restraining her. Someone, Tuvok? saying they should fight. She’d wanted to kill Vorik, to defend her mate! There was motion and adrenaline, but no pain. Then exhaustion, and she was falling, and someone was holding her. Tom’s scent, tinged with fear and blood, engulfed her.

Her door chime rang and, assuming it was Harry, her first instinct was to ignore it like she’d ignored his dinner invitation logged on her computer. But it might be Kes or the Doctor, and he would probably just override her security lock if she didn’t respond, so she stood and called, “Come in.”

“How are you doing?” 

She snorted, shook her head. “How do you think?”

He smiled and reached for her hand. “I think you’re in pain. I think I’d like to help you, if I can.” His expression was calm, and his soft, dark eyes radiated compassion. 

She eyed the bundle he’d brought with him, his medicine bundle, and shook her head. “No. No, Chakotay, I’m not doing that again.” 

“Are you sure? It might help.”

She barked a laugh. “I’m very sure.”

“How do you feel?” he asked. 

“Numb. Angry. When do I not feel angry?” She looked away, looked back. “You were there. You know what happened. Did Tom and I…? Did I really…?”

He sighed. “B’Elanna, none of this is your fault.” He pronounced her name like her mother did, _bey lanna_ , and she felt her eyes tear up. “You didn’t ask for this to happen to you. Neither did Tom, for that matter.”

Her chin jerked up and she looked at him. “He must be so…” Disgusted. Repulsed. He must hate her. 

“He’s worried about you. And he’s angry.” She flinched. She’d ruined everything. No more flirtatious smiles, no more invitations to dinner. It was over. 

“Not with you,” Chakotay clarified. 

She spun away from him then, a quick flash of temper lending her energy and making her feel the need to move! “Vorik!” She spat his name.

“Is a victim in this as well.” 

She rounded on him. “What?”

“He was a victim of his own physiology, much as you were. He didn’t ask for any of this to happen. He’s embarrassed, as much as a Vulcan can be. He asked me to pass along his apologies.” His mouth curved into a smile. “I think he’s afraid to face you himself.”

“He should be,” she spat. 

He raised an eyebrow in a pretty good imitation of Tuvok. 

“If you can, I’d like you to write down what you can remember, for the official report.” 

Her mouth opened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, yes. There were injuries, you were injured.” She snorted. “Plus, we made first contact with a new species. And we found evidence of the Borg.”

“What?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “They’re the reason the Sakari moved underground. We need to file a full report on this mission and, unfortunately, that includes whatever you can remember, as well.”

“I don’t want anyone to know.” She shook her head, her face pinched with betrayal. 

“No one will read your report but me and the Captain. Tuvok would like his own. He wants to talk with you.”

“Can’t you just make this go away?”

He shook his head. “I’d pull the moon from the sky for you if I could. But not this time. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be kind to me, Chakotay. I can’t...I just can’t handle it right now.”

She drew in a ragged breath that shook her whole body. And then, to her utter horror, she burst into tears. He enfolded her in his arms, warm and solid and comforting, and petted her hair, her back. “I’m so sorry, little sister. I’m so sorry.”

And he rocked her while she cried. 

~~ 

Two years ago, she would never have said it, never have thought it, but it felt good to be in her Starfleet uniform, three layers thick, because at the moment she felt horribly exposed. 

~~

“Hey, chief, it’s good to see you back on your feet.” Joe smiled at her as she walked into engineering. “Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine.” She brushed off his concern and headed toward a console. 

He eyed her, and shifted. “Are you sure? You look a little...tired.” 

“What?” She shot him a suspicious glance. “What did you hear?”

Joe shook his head. “Nothing really. Just that you were all injured. Neelix broke his leg. I think Paris got off the lightest.”

Her breath caught. “He wasn’t hurt?” She needed to know. 

“I don’t know. Don’t you?” 

She held his gaze for a moment then looked back at the console. “Did Sue figure out what was wrong with the driver coil assembly?”

“Yes. We got it locked down. It’s in the daily report.”

“How about the gallicite? How difficult will it be to refine it? When can we start the refit?”

“I’m running the numbers now, but it looks good. Very high quality. If we’re lucky, we can begin this afternoon.”

“Good,” she said, “I’m looking forward to it.” She looked at him and tilted her head. “You’re going to get some sleep first, right?”

He smiled. “I was going to ask you the same thing. You’re four hours early for alpha shift.”

She snorted. “I’m fine, Joe. I feel better when I’m doing something.”

“The curse of the engineer,” he agreed with a nod. 

“Well, it looks like you have everything under control. I’ll be in my office with coffee and yesterday’s daily.”

“Sure. I’ll have today’s ready in an hour or so.” 

B’Elanna nodded and headed for the sanctuary of her office. She wasn’t avoiding anyone, and she sure as hell wasn't hiding, but when her office door closed behind her and she sat at her desk, she felt distinctly better than she had for the last twenty four...okay, eighteen hours. 

~

The door hissed open and B’Elanna glanced up from the padd she’d been reading. “I thought I’d find you in here.” Chakotay poked his head through the doorway. 

“Checking up on me?” she asked with just a touch of irritation in her tone. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “I had the computer alert me if you left your quarters, and when you entered engineering.”

“Are you serious?” Her mouth hung open, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or shout. He was kidding, right? He had to be kidding. 

“Actually, yes. Not that I wanted the early wake up call.” He smiled at her and sat on the corner of her desk. She continued to stare at him. “You’ve been here for three hours, how about some breakfast?”

She dropped the padd on the desk and drew back, folding her arms across her chest. “What, that’s it? No lecture about missed sleep. No pressuring me to take the day off?”

“I could, if you’d like me to.” He smiled again, his dimples appearing. “Breakfast. I’m buying. How about it?”

B’Elanna shrugged and stood. “Sure.”

“Bring your data on the refit. We can look it over.”

“I was just going over it now,” she said, grabbing the padd she’d dropped and waving it at him. She stood and moved to follow him out the door but paused, and touched his arm. He looked back at her with a slight smile, eyebrow raised in query. “What do they know?” she asked, gesturing beyond the door. “I mean, what are people saying?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Almost nothing.” She shot him a look of incredulity. “The bridge crew know about your...altercation with Tom after Neelix broke his leg, but not what happened later. The three of you were beamed directly to sickbay. No one saw anything to talk about besides the people involved, and I don’t think Lieutenant Tuvok is likely to gossip.” 

“Altercation,” she said. 

“As far as anyone’s concerned, it was nothing more than a heated argument.”

“Okay.” She sighed her relief. “Wait, you said three? I thought Tom wasn’t hurt.”

Chakotay just looked at her then, head slightly tilted, eyes slightly squinted. “He held you, B’Elanna, while Tuvok and I repaired communications on the shuttle so we could contact Voyager. He wouldn’t let you go until you were in sickbay.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, she decided on, “Oh.”

~

The messhall was crowded, of course, and she wished that Chakotay had inflicted breakfast on her a few hours earlier, but just when she was going to suggest they call it off a table opened up and Chakotay led her toward it with a hand at her elbow. “You sit,” he said, “I’ll see what’s on offer this morning.”

“Hey!” B’Elanna grabbed his arm, “I assumed you were going to replicate me some real food.” 

Chakotay put on an expression of mock surprise. “You did? But I’m the first officer. I lead by example, which means I eat a hot, homemade breakfast every morning.” 

“You tricked me.” She glared, but he only smiled again. 

“Worked though, didn’t it?”

He walked up to the counter and she watched as he conversed with Neelix, who looked over at her and waved. Chakotay poured two mugs of, please, not tea, and carried them back to their table.

“Neelix says he’ll be along with a special breakfast for you in a moment.” 

Those dimples appeared again. He placed a mug of hot liquid in front of her. B’Elanna cupped it with her hands; the warmth felt nice, but a sniff told her it wasn’t coffee. 

“Retsor leaf tea. It has vitamins. It’s good for you.”

She curled her lip and took a sip. It wasn’t as horrible as she expected. Neelix appeared at her elbow with breakfast for them, some sort of porridge for Chakotay and a steaming plate of fritters for her. 

“I had just enough raska fruit leftover to make these for you, B’Elanna. I know how much you enjoyed them before our away mission.” He was smiling at her, obviously anticipating her delight at his thoughtfulness, but she took one look at the plate and her stomachs rolled. “I hope you’re feeling better.” 

His sincerity was claustrophobic. She sighed. He really was sweet. He was kind. “I’m fine,” she assured him, then she remembered. “How are you? Your leg?” She gestured with her fork. 

“Oh, right as water! The Doctor fixed me right up. Actually, Tom repaired the break while we were waiting for the evac team. He really is an exceptional medic.” 

Tom. She refused to think about him right now. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Neelix. It was inexcusable.”

Neelix waved away her apology. “Ah, don’t worry it about it. Your temper has never bothered me. Besides, it was Tom who bore the brunt of it.” He chuckled. 

The bite. He was referring to the bite she’d given Tom. B’Elanna tensed again and looked at Chakotay. He gave a nearly invisible shake of his head. Neelix didn’t know about what happened later. B’Elanna shoved a forkful of fritters in her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak.

“Well, I’ll get back to my kitchen. I have some dyulfu sauce simmering for lunch.”

“Sounds great, Neelix,” Chakotay said, and Neelix headed back to his pots. 

“Remind me to skip lunch,” B’Elanna intoned dryly. 

Chakotay laughed. “So, the warp coils?”

They spoke for several minutes about the refinery they’d set up in the engineering lab on deck thirteen and various systems B’Elanna would have to take offline. She and Joe had worked out a loose schedule, more wishful thinking than a true timeline, B’Elanna warned. The far doors hissed open and B’Elanna looked past Chakotay’s shoulder straight at Tom. She froze. 

He looked...fine. Good. Tired. Their eyes met as embarrassment flared within her, followed quickly by panic, and she looked down at her plate. She stiffened, clenched her jaw. “Are you finished?” 

Chakotay glanced at his empty bowl, then at her. He handed her the padd he’d been reading. “Yes, are we in a hurry?”

“I need to go.” She stood and grabbed her tray, and Chakotay followed, following her glance toward the kitchen. 

“Ah,” he said. 

“Don’t,” B’Elanna warned. She shoved her tray into the recycler and all but ran out of the mess. Chakotay could follow or not, she didn’t much care. 

~~~

She was brooding, and her mind wouldn’t let her concentrate on the job at hand. Joe was back on duty and was politely suggesting she go back to her quarters for a nap—Klingons didn’t _nap!_ —so she was once again hiding in her office, avoiding him. After Chakotay’s gentle reminder, she’d filed her fucking report on the incident, and another for Tuvok before he could ask. She was tired of being treated like she would break at any moment. She’d left out a lot, claiming memory loss. It was none of their business, and they couldn’t prove that she remembered anything. In fact, she dared them to suggest it! Of course, one mindmeld would prove it, and she dared Tuvok to try it!

But her brain wouldn’t let it go. Tom had looked off, haunted. How fanciful, she scoffed. But he certainly didn’t look happy to see her. She’d been afraid he’d try to talk to her, and as much as she wanted to know what had happened on the planet, she wasn’t prepared to find out from him. But, she realized, there was another way. She may not be able to read the reports the others had filed, but she could certainly access her medical file. It would fill in the blanks. 

She stood and took one step toward the door when her combadge chirped.

“ _Lieutenant Tuvok to Lieutenant Torres.”_

What now? She thought. If he was going to quibble over something in her report… “Torres here.”

“ _Could you see me in my office immediately, Lieutenant? There is something I wish to discuss with you._ ”

She bit back a retort and breathed. “I’ll be right there.” How was she supposed to get anything done with so many interruptions? _I swear, if he asks me how I’m feeling..._

~~ 

She could file charges against Vorik. And they would hold a shipboard tribunal (good luck finding a quorum of senior officers who weren’t involved). And Vorik would be sanctioned, and maybe punished, and everyone would know all the salacious details they were only guessing at now.

She stormed out of Tuvok’s office cursing all Vulcans and their pointy little ears!

~~

“I want to see my medical records. I want to read your report on the... _incident._ ” Her voice faltered and she cursed. She’d stormed through the sickbay doors and headed directly for the Doctor’s office when a glance failed to locate him. She was still rattled from her meeting with Tuvok, looking for a fight, and there was no way in hell she was taking no for an answer.

“Lieutenant.” He glanced up, startled, then plastered a calming, condescending smile on his face. “B’Elanna, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” The Doctor was seated at his desk, padd in hand. “I want your memories to come back to you naturally, in their own time. Reading the record of the,” he inclined his head, “incident, will only upset you and make it more difficult for you to sort through your emotions.” 

Her emotions. About the _incident._ She was getting so tired of his compassionate understanding. That damned concerned expression. She wanted to wipe it from his programme. 

“They’re my records. I have a right to read them!”

“Have you spoken with Commander Chakotay about this? What’s his opinion?”

“Chakotay?! Why would you imagine he would get a say in this?” She was furious! 

He sighed, and she gritted her teeth. _Once more_ , she thought, _and I’ll give you holographic lungs just so I can rip them out!_

“He’s your friend, your confidant. I think his opinion on this matters. I’m going to call him, see what he has to say.”

“I’m not some child—“

He raised his eyes to the ceiling and spoke. “The Doctor to Commander Chakotay.” 

“ _Yes, Doctor?_ ”

“This is so unnecessary!” B’Elanna fumed.

“ _B’Elanna?_ ” 

“Could you come to sickbay, Commander? We have something to discuss.”

“You have no right to second guess my request.” She was leaning over his desk, shouting in his holographic face. Even in her anger she could see the irony in her statement. 

“I have every right. In fact, it’s my job.” 

“I’m not some delicate little flower. I don’t need to be protected!”

“What’s going on?” Chakotay walked into sickbay and headed toward them. “I could hear you shouting while I was still in the turbolift.” He smiled at B’Elanna but she wasn’t in the mood to be defused. 

“I want to see my medical records. I _demand_ to see my records. And he won’t give them to me.” She jabbed a finger at the Doctor. 

“Doctor?” Chakotay asked.

“B’Elanna wants to see a detail of the injuries she acquired during the away mission. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m concerned about her mental state, and how she’ll interpret the information.”

Chakotay turned to her. “B’Elanna?”

“They’re my records. I have a right to access them. He healed everything. It’s like...it’s like it never happened. But it did! I remember but I don’t have any proof. It’s like it was all a bad dream.”

“Isn’t that what you’d prefer?” His eyes were soft, and he touched her arm, gave it a little squeeze. 

“No. I’d prefer it never happened at all. But since it did, I need to know everything.” 

He stared at her for a moment then nodded. “Give her the information, Doctor.” She slumped with relief. “But,” Chakotay turned to her and held up a finger, “you’ll read it in my office, not your quarters. I want you on neutral ground.”

She stared at him, then nodded. What the hell had happened to her? How badly had she been injured? She felt trepidation steal over her, and a quiet dread. 

The doctor scowled, “I can override your decision, you know. As chief medical officer, that’s _my_ right!” He downloaded the information, then extended the padd toward B’Elanna. Chakotay plucked it from his hand. 

Chakotay walked her to his office, his hand at the small of her back. He settled her behind his desk, replicated her a mug of tea, “Comm me if you need me.” and left her alone. 

She read about the Doctor’s theory that Vorik’s _pon farr_ had been communicated to her by a mind meld two days ago. That it had sparked a similar Klingon blood fever in her. _What bullshit!_ That her blood fever had been expunged through coitus with Lieutenant jg Thomas Eugene Paris, and further eradicated through physical altercation, he used the word _fisticuffs_ , with Ensign Vorik, aided by Lieutenant Paris. 

Really? He had fought Vorik with her? He had fought for her? She quickly skimmed the list of her injuries:

A laceration to her left upper arm, likely from when Neelix fell down the shaft and knocked her to the ground. She remembered that happening. It had bled and Tom had been concerned, right before she— 

Her thoughts skittered off that track. 

Lesions and abrasions to her palms. A broken _unguis_ to her right digitus quartus manus. _Asshole_ , she thought as she chewed on the ragged fingernail.

Her right elbow had a scrape. She had bruises, contusions, to her shoulders and right knuckles. A split lip, more contusions to her mouth and jaw. A scrape on her left cheekbone. 

She’d been covered in dirt, and dehydrated, and there was seminal fluid in her vagina and uterus. 

_**And this will prevent a zygote from attaching to the uterine wall, just in case**_

She placed a hand on her belly, willing her stomachs to settle. Bruising on her right hip that would suggest finger marks. Scrapes on her lower spine and buttocks. And a laceration to her left trapezius, consistent with a bite mark, with traces of human DNA…

She gasped, and her hand flew to her shoulder. He’d bitten her. Tom had bitten her. That hadn’t happened during the fight with Vorik. It must have happened before, during, she glanced at the padd again, coitus. What had she made him do? 

~~

She tried to concentrate, but watching readings fluctuate on a panel display did nothing to calm her frayed nerves so, instead, she grabbed her tool kit and headed off to Jefferies tube 23 Alpha to try to track down a power drain to transporter room one. She stopped on the upper level and took a couple of gel packs, just in case. She needed to move, to do something, and right now the idea of getting covered in goo and filth didn’t repulse her. She was looking forward it. 

It took her ten minutes to get there even at her forced march, and when she arrived the hatch was stuck and she gloried in manually wrenching it open, grunting and swearing with the effort, breaking an _unguis_ in the process. She hoped the hatch would close again. It would have been easier to wend her way through the tubes from engineering, and she briefly considered doing just that to get back. 

She immersed herself in her work, testing the power conduits, and scanning the gel pack. Of course… She carefully removed it, not that careful made much of a difference, and sighed as it vomited goo all over her hands. “I know how you feel,” she said. 

She heard banging and thumping from aft and turned to see Ayala lumbering toward her. He was a large man, tall and solid, and he made a comical picture as he slowly moved through the cramped tunnel on his hands and knees. He wasn’t built for speed. 

“Hey,” she greeted him. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re hard to track down,” he said, ignoring her question. 

She stared at him, watching as he tried to settle himself comfortably in the narrow space. He was probably twice her size, and she felt confined. “Why would you want to track me down?” she asked.

“Just wondering if there’s anyone you want me to kill,” he said. 

She was taken aback by that. “Wouldn’t your boss object?” 

A ghost of a smile. “I’ve been trained. I can make it look like an accident,” he said.

B’Elanna smiled and turned back to her gel pack. “No. Thanks.” 

“You know, Tom Paris is an okay guy.”

She caught her breath and turned back to him, her eyes flashing. “What do you know?” Her tone was accusing.

“Nothing, really. Sure, some stuff is floating around, but nothing specific.”

“Enough for you to track me down and ask if I wanted you to kill him?”

He shrugged. “I could just make him hurt for a while,” he offered. 

She looked down, scrubbed at the goo on her hands. “Were you on the bridge? You know, during...Sakari?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” She huffed out a big puff of air.

“What were you fighting about?”

She wasn’t about to tell him! “I don’t really remember anymore,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “The offer’s open. I can just rough him up a little, if you want.” He smiled at her as he started to back up in the tube. There wasn’t room for him to turn around. 

“Mike!” B’Elanna called. “Thanks. And you can tell Chakotay not to worry. I’m fine.”

He shook his head. “Chakotay didn’t send me.”

“Then who did?”

“You don’t think I can be concerned for you on my own?”

“Maybe. But maybe not enough to track me down in Jefferies tube 23 Alpha.”

He just smiled and continued to back away. B’Elanna blinked at him and turned back to her circuits.

~~

She was riding in the turbolift, headed back up to Chakotay’s office when it stopped early. She waited for whoever it was to enter, and when they didn’t, she glanced up. Tom. Standing just inside the ‘lift doors, staring at her. She read the indecision on his face and expected him to run. Hoped he’d run. No such luck. He stepped into the ‘lift, settled beside her, and called for deck two. Goodie. 

He turned slightly and regarded her, and she felt a little shiver, hoped she didn’t flush. She could smell his scent, feel his warmth wrap around her, and it unsettled her. 

“It looks like you’re feeling better,” he said. “Are you back on duty?”

She glanced at him, looked quickly away. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine, thanks.” He was too tall, she decided, and she resented craning her neck to look at him. And his eyes were ridiculously blue. “The, um, the refit is going well. We should have new warp coils by the end of the week.”

“Oh, good. Glad to hear it.” He tapped his padd a few times. 

She felt his eyes on her again. Her turn. “Is that your conn report?” She gestured to the padd in his hand. 

“Umm, yeah. I’m just reviewing it. You know how Rollins is about comma placement. And don’t even get me started on his feelings on ellipses…”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Don’t forget semicolons; no one can figure out how to use those.” She cringed inwardly. Stupid. Stupid thing to say. She risked a glance at him. Tom smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it, she could tell. She could sense his rising frustration and willed the lift to move faster. 

“This is ridiculous, computer, halt turbolift.” He startled her, and she turned to face him, her eyes flying to his. “Look,” Tom said, “we’re going to be on this ship together for a long time.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. She had to cut him off. “I’ve been thinking and we have to pretend none of this ever happened.” He would agree to that, wouldn’t he? It was sensible: the perfect solution. 

He look startled and not a little bit frustrated. “But something did happen, B’Elanna.” 

“Look, I appreciate what you did for me. But I—” she began, but Tom cut her off. 

“What I did?” Tom’s voice rose. “Don’t you mean what we did? I seem to recall that you were there too, and that it was all your idea!” 

Now he looked pissed off. Well, he wasn’t the only one! “Well, I obviously wasn’t in my right mind!”

His eyes popped at that. “Look, B’Elanna—”

“No, you look, Tom. As far as I'm concerned, I was under the influence of some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance, and whatever I did, whatever I said, it wasn't me.” Stop, she willed him, please stop. But he didn’t. His eyes glittered with anger and he huffed at her. She felt the urge to throw him to the floor, the urge to claim him! She remembered the heat of him, the hardness of his lean muscled body, the give of his flesh under her teeth! Did he know what he was doing? Didn’t he understand what it meant to challenge a Klingon female this way?

“Yeah, I know,” he said hotly. “You're afraid that your big, scary Klingon side might have been showing. Well, I saw it up close, and you know, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday.” He looked away from her, drew in a gulp of air. Then dismissed her as he said, “Computer, resume.”

She drew back and stiffened, her free hand balling into a fist. How dare he?! She was suddenly furious. While she was thinking of him as a potential mate, her mate, he was thinking only about the sex they’d had on the planet. It figured! She should have known better, known better than to indulge in a fantasy, than to cast a human playboy like Tom Paris in the role. 

The lift stopped, and she stomped out the open doors, throwing over her shoulder, “Be careful what you wish for, Lieutenant! Next time I might break your arm!”

It felt good to have the last word.

~~

She would have to leave _Voyager._ There was no other way. It must be all over the ship by now. Everyone must know. She hated the idea that people were talking about her, gossiping about her. How much did they know? How much had they guessed? And Tom. She couldn’t stay on the ship with him. 

She’d made a habit of running and, in her head, she’d preferred to believe that she was running _to_ instead of running _from_. But she knew that was a lie. She’d run from her mother and her smothering Klingon teachings. She’d run from the Academy when it became painfully obvious that she could never belong there. She’d found a home and family in the Maquis, but the Caretaker had destroyed that by flinging them seventy thousand light years, into the Delta Quadrant. 

And now, just when Voyager had started to feel like home, when her crew had become family, she would have to run again. It wasn’t fair. But she could hardly expect the rest of the crew to get off and leave her here with Chakotay. 

She paced her quarters. She would pack tonight. Just a few things. She crossed to the closet and grabbed her Maquis clothing and tall leather boots. Thank God she’d kept them. And she’d replicated a few things in the last two years. She pulled her battered old duffle out of her closet and splayed it open on her bed, then crossed to her dresser and opened a drawer. She would leave all of her ‘fleet clothes, though maybe she would take the underwear, especially the tank shirts with the built-in bra. She scooped up her underwear and dumped it in the bag. She turned and grabbed her red pyjamas from the end of her bed and shoved them in, too. She looked around. Her gaze landed on a pile of padds next to her bed, and she picked them up, then hesitated. They were ‘fleet issue. She couldn’t bring them. Shouldn’t bring them. 

She would have to write a note to Joe since he was the most likely person to take her place as chief engineer. She stifled a sob at that: she’d worked so hard, and fought so hard to prove herself. Chakotay had believed in her, fought for her, and the Captain had taken a chance on her, and she liked to think she’d proven herself. But she’d prove herself again. 

Her crew would be fine, even the Maquis. Joe would look after them. They were competent, had learned through experience and observation. But just maybe there were a few who were unhappy? Who’d be willing to come with her. Pete Dalby had never fit in, though he’d tried. She sniffled and sank onto the bed. It was so unfair. 

Her door chime sounded and she jumped. For a moment, she considered ignoring it, but it was probably Harry wondering why she hadn’t got back to him about dinner last night, trying to entice her down to the messhall. The chime sounded again and she stood and wiped her eyes. If it was Chakotay again, she was going to scream: let loose a primal roar!

“Come,” she said, before it could sound a third time. 

The Captain walked in and glanced around before she located her beside her bed. B’Elanna saw that she noted the duffle and the small pile of clothing beside it. 

“Captain!” B’Elanna said, surprised. 

Janeway smiled. “Do you mind if I come in, or are you busy?”

“I...no. Of course, Captain. Please.” B’Elanna came around the bed and gestured to the couch, hoping her body hid the incredibly obvious signs of her packing. “Would you like to sit?”

“Only if you’ll join me.” She stood in the middle of the living area, her gaze still on the pile of items on the bed. “I always did like those boots,” she commented. 

“You should replicate a pair,” B’Elanna said with a smile. 

Janeway held her gaze, sat on the sofa and patted the seat beside her. B’Elanna crossed the room and perched on the edge of the cushion. “Are you going somewhere?” Janeway asked. 

B’Elanna looked away, looked back. “I…” She wanted to deny it. She realized she didn’t want to go. “I don’t know. I think...I have to.”

“If that’s really what you want, B’Elanna, I won’t force you to stay. But I don’t think it is. I get the feeling that what you really want is something else.” Her eyebrow lifted in a question.

B’Elanna opened her mouth to reply then shut it again. What did she mean by that? “Captain, I… I just hate that everyone is talking about me. About us. I just want it all to stop.”

Janeway nodded and patted her hand. “I understand. And it will stop, eventually. After all, no one really knows anything, and once everyone has quizzed everyone else and come up empty, they’ll have to find something new to talk about. Or if you’re lucky someone will make a spectacle of themselves and divert the attention.” 

She smiled, and her eyes were warm. B’Elanna smiled back, she couldn’t help it. “Are you volunteering, Captain?”

“Ha!” She laughed. “I will admit that occasionally I’m tempted.” Janeway tilted her head, assessing her, and B’Elanna fought the urge to fidget. “So, where were you planning on going?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get that far,” her smile was sheepish. “I figured maybe we’d run across an inhabited planet, or a fleet of ships…”

“Well,” Janeway said, “they’d be lucky to have you. And I’d give you a ringing endorsement, if that’s what you decide. And you wouldn’t have to worry about _Voyager,_ you’ve trained your staff very well. They’re all competent. They’ll keep us running. Probably. Still, it would be a shame if Naomi Wildman never got to meet her father.”

B’Elanna frowned and shifted. She wasn’t impervious to guilt. “Joe is—“

“Mister Carey is a competent engineer, but he’s not the _chief_ for a reason. No one else can do what you do, B’Elanna.”

B’Elanna looked away, then stared at her hands, folded in her lap. She was suddenly, completely, exhausted. 

“I mention this only because this ship and her crew have to be my first priority. Getting my crew home has to come first, and I’ll fight tooth and nail to make that happen. And I’ll be damned if I’ll give up the best engineer in the Delta Quadrant without a fight.” She placed a hand over B’Elanna’s and gave them a squeeze. “But even if all you did on the ship was flush out the reclamation pipes, I’ll still try to talk you out of leaving.

“You’re important, B’Elanna. You’re an integral member of this crew, and I don’t know if we could function without you. I don’t mean _Voyager_ , I mean us. Her crew. And I’m asking you to stay.”

“It’s not so much what everyone else thinks,” B’Elanna said quietly, “but Tom…”

“Blames himself. Is beating himself up over this.”

B’Elanna’s head jerked up. “None of this was his fault!” she said fiercely.

“And that’s exactly what he said about you,” Kathryn replied. “I think I managed to convince him to stay.”

“Tom was thinking of leaving, too?” B’Elanna was incredulous.

Janeway shrugged. “You two could have ended up on the same ship, then what would you have done?” He eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter.

B’Elanna let hers go in a loud bark. She would have given in and bitten him again and taken him as her mate and gloried in the feel of his warm skin against hers, his lips, his hands. She shook her head. 

Janeway stood. “Do you need help unpacking?” She asked. B’Elanna shook her head. “Then I’ll say goodnight.” 

She headed out the door and B’Elanna stood there a moment before crossing to her bed and reaching for the duffle. She paused, then looked up. “Computer, is Tom Paris asleep?”

:Cannot confirm. Please restate your question:

B’Elanna sighed. “Are the lights on in Tom Paris’ quarters?”

:Affirmative:

“What is he doing?”

:Cannot confirm, please—:

“Right. Yes,” B’Elanna snapped. “Is he alone?”

:Affirmative: 

Good. “Is he listening to music?”

:Affirmative:

B’Elanna smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. “Play same musical selection for me.”

:Request denied. Privacy protocols—:

“Override. Torres omicron beta seven four two.” Her quarters filled with a bouncy, yet melancholy, tune, and the low, husky voice of the female vocalist. 

… _to be adored_  
_Lost control, and tumbled overboard, gladly_  
_That magic night we kissed_  
_There in the moon mist_

B’Elanna gasped. She shoved her underwear back into their drawer.

 _Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling_  
_Never before were mine so strangely willing_

No kidding, she thought, reaching for her boots and crossing to her closet. She hugged them to her chest.

 _But now I see, what one embrace can do_  
_Look at me, it's got me loving you madly_  
_That little kiss you stole_  
_Held all my heart and soul._

She sank onto the corner of her bed and, as the strangely upbeat music bounced to a close, she thought, if only it were true… 

~~

**Author's Note:**

> Frank Loesser / Hoagy Carmichael  
> Heart and Soul lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC


End file.
